Oblique
by paperbkryter
Summary: Clark wakes up in the hospital without his powers. How did he get there, and how will he get back to normal?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: 

I started this story two years ago, and it sat, unfinished, until about two weeks ago. It's an alternative universe fic, based on a question that popped up into my head after watching a repeat of the pilot: What if Clark HADN'T been invulnerable when Lex hit him?

A first draft began with Lex's POV, as he woke up in the hospital and told him Clark had been killed. Yet he recalled a different scenario. For various reasons that beginning did not work out, so I changed the POV. Clark's viewpoint seemed to be much more logical, and indeed, worked out much better.

Nobody has actually switched roles here. If you recognize one character in another, it's merely coincidence. These are different characters, altered by subtle differences in their world as opposed to "ours." Clark is the exception - and you will see why.

I think I've made it clear when these events take place, but for the sake of clarity I'll mention it here. In "our" universe the time is set during events that take place in Season 2's episode Rosetta. In "their" universe we meet our characters a short time after the Pilot takes place, and if a certain character knows more than you think he should, keep in mind the age difference.

This will be posted in chapters, of which there should be 10 or so.

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy. Comments are always welcome.

-T

* * *

At first there was only a weird buzzing noise in his head, like voices coming at him from under water, and a great deal of pain. This alternated with periods of darkness, and even more pain that drove into his head like a jack-hammer with every beat of his heart. When he finally managed to open his eyes, it took a while to focus properly. The light burned.

A hand entered his line of vision. Fingers caressed his forehead, soothing his brow as if he were a child. The soft hand was cool upon his burning skin. He knew who it had to be because no one else had ever touched him that way.

_"Mom?"_

It came out a breathy moan. There was something down his throat preventing him from speaking. He couldn't move either. His legs were weighted down with something heavy and unwielding, his neck was wrapped in some sort of collar. Confusion and fear set in, along with a feeling of panic as he began struggling against his bonds. Martha Kent shushed him, wrapped her hand around his and gave it a squeeze.

"Shh, shh. Honey, it's okay. It's okay. You were in an accident." She rose to stand over him and he could see her face. Her presence was a comfort, but not her words. "You're in the hospital, but you're going to be okay."

Clark looked at her. There were tears in her eyes.

And needles in his arm.

He was completely baffled by it.

They told him nothing, kept him sedated because he kept insisting on trying to move around. This was despite the annoying ache in his legs and the pain that radiated through his back and shoulders every time he attempted to move his head. It took him a while for his mind to clear enough for him to understand he was injured.

He was still as confused as hell, and the pain wasn't helping. In his world there was no such thing as pain, nor pain-killers that knocked him on his butt and left him sleeping for hours. He'd slept enough. He wanted to get up and get answers. When his head cleared even more he realized he wasn't going anywhere with two broken legs, a cracked skull and a sprained back. He was in casts from his feet to the tops of his thighs and wearing a metal and plastic brace from his ribs to his chin. Thus contained, Clark had nothing to do _but _sleep.

He got depressed. They gave him more medicine in the form of anti-depressants and let him have visitors. The latter suited Clark just fine because thus far all he'd seen were his parents, and they weren't talking. They made soothing noises, and wouldn't answer his questions. Rest, they said, rest, and we can talk later.

It was Pete who came first. Clark woke from a nap to the sound of his voice and was overjoyed to see him sitting beside the bed. Groping for the controls that raised and lowered the top of the bed, he raised himself up so he could see, and frowned at the expression on Pete's face. He looked to be on the verge of tears.

"What?" Clark demanded. "What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just...they told us not to get our hopes up. You'd hit your head pretty hard. Mom told me she heard you weren't expected to wake up."

"You should know better. Of course I'd wake up. I'm not even supposed to be here! I don't understand what's going on, and Mom and Dad won't tell me anything."

Pete leaned back in his chair. He was wearing, Clark noted, a letter jacket. It wasn't just a school jacket, but a letter jacket like the jocks wore, with his name sewed in over the pocket and a great big "S" on the breast. A gold pin denoted what sport he played.

_When did Pete letter? He's the worst player on the football team. They never letter freshmen unless they're really good._

"You don't remember the accident?"

Clark automatically tried to shake his head, winced when he couldn't. "No. I..." he flushed guiltily. "I went to the caves, Pete. I had the key from the ship with me and I put it in the indentation in the wall. It opened up and this bright light hit me. The next thing I know I'm here."

There was a moment of hesitation before Pete laughed, shaking his head. "Clark, man, I know you're recovering from having your brains shaken not stirred but what the hell are you talking about?"

"The caves! I was in the caves. Whatever hit me must have been from outside the Earth, nothing else could have done this to me and..."

"What hit you was from Detroit, not another planet." Pete interrupted gently. "You got hit by a car, punched through a guard-rail and hurled into the river off of the Loeb bridge. I don't know what caves you're talking about unless it's something you dreamed up while you were out."

"Out?" Clark frowned. "What do you mean, out? How long have I been here?"

"Two months. You've been in a coma for two months, buddy. They told us you probably wouldn't wake up because of your head kissing windshield.

Suddenly frightened, Clark stared at Pete in utter confusion. The answers he thought he'd gain from having visitors were not forthcoming. What Pete was telling him only created more questions.

"That's not possible," he whispered. "I shouldn't have gotten hurt, I can't be hurt. I'm invulnerable."

"No, you're not, or else you wouldn't be talkin' out of your head." Pete said with a snort. "You got hit by a freakin' car, Clark, and you're lucky to be alive. The truck driver that pulled you out of the river said he'd never see anything like it. It nearly broke you in half when you went through that railing and into the water. You shattered the windshield with your head."

"Bridge, I went off the bridge?" Clark whispered. Comprehension dawned as if he'd been again struck by a car. "Lex! Lex hit me."

"Yeah, Lex Luthor. Lionel Luthor's kid. He was heading down Route 4 going like a bat outta hell, lost control of the car and that was that."

"But that...is he okay?"

"Okay? Are you kidding? No. After the truck driver got you out he went back to check on Lex but couldn't get him out." Pete shook his head. "By the time the squad got there it was too late."

Clark stared at him. "You're lying."

"Why would I lie about that? Clark, I'm serious. Lex Luthor drowned. He's dead and buried. Hasn't anyone told you any of this?"

"No," Clark murmured. "I've asked what happened, but they just put me off, didn't want to talk about it."

"They probably didn't want you to get upset. You look upset now. Man, your Mom is gonna scalp me."

"No she won't. Somebody had to tell me eventually."

Clark's confusion now was tenfold. By his memory Lex had hit him, had gone into the water, but due to Clark's intervention he had not drowned. Clark rescued Lex from the wreck and they were both fine. They'd become friends. Lex still hinted around that he didn't believe he hadn't been killed, suspecting Clark of lying. Clark should have been killed, or at least badly injured, but he wasn't because he wasn't human. He was strong, he was fast, he could see through things...

He raised a hand so he could look at it. There was an i.v. taped down to the back of it. He made a fist. The needle pulled. It hurt.

Not human? Or was his head injury playing games with his mind? What if everything that happened after the accident - never really happened at all?

But that didn't make sense, because he'd always been "different," even before the accident.

"Clark?"

He started, dropping his hand to his lap. "What?"

Pete's expression was one of concern. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah." Clark said. "Yeah, I'll be okay."

Chuckling a little, Pete shook his head. "I was worried for a minute there, buddy. Space aliens and superpowers? What drugs they have you on, anyway?"

"Yeah," Clark bit his lip.

_What is going on?

* * *

_

The back brace came off a few days after Pete's visit, replaced by miles of ace bandaging wrapped around his chest and shoulders. Clark was sent home with a wheelchair to get around with, but he wanted crutches. His request was denied. He wasn't permitted to have crutches because of the strain they would put on his back. After practicing pushing his wheelchair around himself he had to agree. His back ached. Getting around with crutches would have been murder.

At home navigation was difficult. His father built him a ramp so he could get off the porch and into the barnyard if he wanted. Inside they brought his bed down from upstairs and set up a makeshift bedroom in Martha's sewing room, which was little more than a little addition in the back Grampa Hiram had added just before he died. It wasn't insulated. The fall nights were cold, and so was Clark, as he lay shivering beneath his blankets, unable to curl into a ball for more warmth. He always seemed to be cold.

Cold, when he shouldn't have been cold. He was impervious to cold. He was unable to feel pain.

Wrong.

He was frustrated, confused and had a nearly constant headache despite the pain pills the hospital prescribed him. Even propped up and immobilized his legs ached from his calves to his thighs. Beneath the casts his skin itched and burned. He had to ask for help to take a leak, and when he'd finally gotten a look at himself he was appalled. He didn't even look the same.

Some of the scars were new, like the one that ran like an underline beneath his right eye. The one that marred a lip, and one just under his chin were old, as were the ugly gashes across his ribs on the right side. The accident had broken his nose - a second time apparently.There was an ugly bump on the bridge from more than one break in the past.

That was the most frightening thing to him. Maybe he was just suffering from some sort of delusion as a result of the accident, but when he looked in the mirror and didn't recognize himself, it sent a chill through him. Something was wrong, very wrong, and Clark failed to be able to understand the where, what and how of it.

His mother had worried about his "memory loss" when he asked her about the older scars.

"You don't remember?"

"Huh-uh."

"Honey, they're from when you were only three." She'd smiled slightly. "You were always sneaking away from me. I'd turned my back for a minute and you'd slipped through the fence and into the pen with our old bull. Remember?"

"Oh, right."

In truth Clark did remember that incident. Only when the bull charged him, he'd simply moved out of its way to fast for it too follow. When it got lucky and hooked him once, it simply threw him over the fence, where he landed in the dirt frightened but unscathed. Apparently not in this universe. In this universe old Spike had hooked him good and tossed him around a little, breaking his nose and several ribs in the process.

He rubbed his hand over his hair. It was growing out, but still terribly short from where they'd shaved it all off in the hospital. He'd had a shunt, Martha said, to help relieve the swelling inside his skull. If all he came away with from such a horrible head injury were a few mixed up memories, his parents were content with that. Clark wasn't so easily appeased.

Clark did believe he'd somehow gotten mixed up in another world, because he knew what he knew, and this wasn't it. Nobody was going to convince him otherwise, but who was going to believe him if he told them? If he told his parents they'd send him back to the hospital, or to a shrink.

_"Yes, my son suffered massive head trauma and now thinks he's an alien."_

There wasn't a spaceship in the storm cellar, Clark was sure of it, even if he couldn't get down there to look for himself.

And Lex was dead.

He'd gotten on-line and looked up everything about the accident he could find. There wasn't much, only an obituary and a small article in the paper. That in itself Clark found strange. He also found it depressing. For all that this Lex may not have been his Lex, he still felt the loss.

If Clark had been himself Lex wouldn't be dead. Clark would have ripped open the car and gotten him free before he drowned. The question was, why wasn't Clark - Clark?

He desperately needed to talk to someone who wouldn't think he was a kook. Pete had been very little help the few times Clark spoke with him, always having to rush off to football practice or spend time with his girlfriend. He was, Clark found out, second string quarterback, the only freshman ever to hold such a position. Pete wasn't Pete either. It was becoming clear they had not been as close in this world as in his own.

Sighing, Clark painstakingly rolled himself over to the screen door. Getting out the door was tough because he couldn't reach it. His knees didn't bend and his legs were propped up on long supports that stuck out in front of him. If he leaned too far forward he was in danger of tipping the whole damn wheelchair over. Clark utilized a broom to shove the door open wide enough so that he could wedge himself through. It was clumsy, noisy, frustrating, and left Clark red faced and irritated by the time he got outside. His back ached from his efforts.

This was not normal. Or rather, it was normal, just not for him.

"Yeah, and who was it who always complained about not being normal?" he grumbled, tossing the broom onto the porch swing. "Well now you got it buddy."

It was a beautiful Autumn day, not too hot and not too cool. He could smell leaves burning in the distance. The sun was high in a cloudless blue sky. Next week he was supposed to go back to school, something which he was dreading. What else would he find different? How could he be expected to adapt to this place when his memories were of something else, not to mention a body not his own? This wasn't his body. It resembled him, people recognized him as Clark Kent, but this body was human, with a human fragility he found unpleasant in the extreme.

Clark thunked his knuckles against the cast on his right leg. He stared at the signatures. Only one person had angled their autograph so that when he looked at it he didn't have to read it upside down. She'd made her "o" into a flower, and colored it pink and yellow with highlighters.

Some things hadn't changed. When Chloe had come to visit him in the hospital she was virtually the same as he remembered. She was still the editor of The Torch, and still completely obsessed with making reporting her career. The only thing different about her that Clark could see was that she was a little more conservative with her dress, and her hair was different. It was long, and pulled back in a ponytail. She seemed more - girly. Other than that, she was the same old Chloe.

Chloe.

He sat up a little straighter.

"Chloe!"

If there was a mystery to be solved, she would be the one to solve it.


	2. Chapter 2

"Okay, don't tell me I'm crazy, and don't say I've got brain damage." Clark said.

"You do have brain damage."

They stood (or in Clark's case - sat) in the middle of the barn floor beneath Clark's loft. (He'd been extremely pleased that it, at least, was exactly the same if just inaccessible at the moment.) Clark hadn't wanted anyone to overhear their conversation, particularly his parents.

"What? I do not!"

"You were in a coma for weeks, Clark. You suffered a fractured skull and swelling of the brain. The damage may not be permanent but you can't possibly be fully recovered yet."

"Chloe just listen."

She laughed. "Okay, okay. Shoot. What is so grave that you begged me to come over here during the Torch deadline crunch?"

"Is Smallville still weird?"

Chloe replied without a beat, deadpan. "You certainly are."

Clark glared at her. "Was there a meteor shower twelve years ago?"

"Yes. You don't remember that?" Her expression took on a worry line between her brows. "Clark..."

"Yes, I remember, but - well never mind that yet. Are there still mutations, from the meteor rocks?"

With a sigh, Chloe crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't know about the meteorites, but the fertilizer plant is another story. Last year Luthor Corp. was fined for having disregarded environmental codes for years. They traced the high rate of birth defects in livestock and cancer among the residents to the fertilizer plant. Clark you should know this! You've been going on and on about it ever since Corbin died."

Clark looked at her blankly. "Who?"

"You're kidding, right?" The worry line reappeared. "Clark," she whispered. "You don't remember your brother?"

Her words hit him with as much force as the car that had broken both his legs. He could only stare at her for several heartbeats, his mind frantically trying to assess this new bit of information.

"A broth...I'm adopted, Chloe."

"Yes, I know that." Chloe said patiently. Her worry line got a little deeper as if she were debating whether or not to call his parents, or better yet, a doctor. "You really don't remember Corbin?"

Clark felt ill, decidedly ill.

"No," he whispered.

"You were twins. The Kents adopted both of you rather than have you be separated. He got sick two years ago." Her face fell a little. "He was really sick, Clark. I overheard my dad telling someone that it was almost a blessing when he died."

Closing his eyes, Clark rubbed at his temples. The headache was always there, sometimes to a lesser degree, but always there, along with the memories that seemed to be false. He didn't have a brother. His adoption had been a sham, concocted to hide the fact he was found in a cornfield after falling out of the sky to land on Earth. He. Wasn't. Human.

"Have you told your doctor about your memory loss?" Chloe asked quietly.

He shook his head. The headache was particularly fierce, and was getting worse the harder he tried to understand what was going on in his mind.

"Chloe, I swear I am not going crazy, and I'm not brain damaged." Clark glanced up at her. "I've not lost my memory. I just have a different one. I don't think I'm in the right place."

"What are you talking about? Of course you're in the right place."

"Do you know about parallel universes?"

She frowned. "Science fiction stuff? Like Dinotopia, The Wizard of Oz, Narnia..."

"Sort of, yes. Only more similar to our own, where people are almost the same but not. "Like that episode of Star Trek when the transporter malfunctioned and Kirk and Spock switched places with their not-so-nice dopplegangers from another universe."

Chloe grinned. "And Spock had a goatee. I think I get your meaning. So what you're saying is that you aren't_our_ Clark, right?"

"Physically, yes. Mentally, no, because where I come from the accident didn't turn out like this. I didn't get hurt, and Lex didn't die. I never had a brother either and..."

"And what?" Chloe prompted.

Clark hesitated, reluctant even here to divulge his secret. "You'll think I'm crazy."

"I don't think this story can get any crazier, Clark, so you might as well tell me."

He bit his lip. "In that other place, I wasn't human."

She had the courtesy of waiting a beat before busting up laughing.

"Chloe, I'm serious. What I remember is totally different. Lex hit me with his car all right, but he didn't hurt me. He couldn't hurt me. I swam around under the water until I found the car, ripped open the roof..."

"With what? Your teeth?"

"No! With my hands. I ripped open the roof, pulled him out, gave him CPR and both of us were okay. We're friends in fact."

"Can he collaborate your story? I have a Ouiji board at home..."

"Chloe!"

She walked over to him and crouched down beside his chair, putting her hand gently upon his arm. "Clark, look. You have to admit this is pretty far fetched, and considering you have been very, very ill, you can't blame anyone for not believing what you're saying. It's all in your head."

Clark looked down at the casts, and Chloe's hand on his. "It's not all in my head. I swear. It's so clear..."

"The mind is a funny thing, Clark. People still don't know how it works." Standing, she squeezed his shoulder. "Yours is still healing. You'll forget all about this in a few weeks. I promise."

"I don't want to forget it." Clark murmured. "I want to get back to it."

Her worry line staged an encore. "Clark, please tell your doctors, or at least your parents about this. Please?"

He spoke only to appease her, and he had a feeling she knew it. "Yeah, yeah, okay."

She gave him another pat. "Good. Now I have to run. I've got a newspaper to get to the printer and I've got a date tonight."

Clark looked up at her. "A date? With who?" Given Chloe's luck with boyfriends in _his_ world Clark wasn't about to let her get in trouble in this one. Even if he hadn't been a beaten and battered mess, he didn't have any of his abilities, although he suspected he wouldn't let that stop him if she did get into trouble.

Chloe shook her head sadly. Obviously this was something else Clark was supposed to know and didn't. "Whitney of course."

"Whitney! Fordman? Since when are you dating Whitney?"

"Since he broke up with Jodie Melville last spring. Come on, Clark. You don't remember that?"

"I...no. But what about Lana?"

"Lana? Lana who?"

Clark stopped, pole-axed. "Lana Lang?"

"Oh, let me guess, someone from that other universe?" Chloe shook her head again. "Clark, seriously. Don't get yourself worked up over this. The mind can play funny tricks on you, particularly if it got a little mangled on its way through a car windshield."

"I guess." Clark said morosely.

No abilities, no Lex, and now no Lana either. What next?

Chloe gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Get better, CK. We miss you at the Torch." She moved off toward the door, but stopped halfway there, turning back to him with a grin. "By the way, if you aren't human, what are you?"

"Why should I tell you?" Clark grumbled. "You don't believe me anyway."

"Humor me."

He sighed. "An alien. My ship came down with the meteor shower."

Her reaction was not what he'd expected. She didn't laugh, but instead looked at him quite gravely.

"That's very interesting," she said quietly, coming back up the step she had descended.

Clark raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because there have been rumors that something else i did /i come down with the meteors. Lionel Luthor was in town sealing the deal on the property he turned into the fertilizer plant. He was dropped off by helicopter. On his way back out of town the pilot swore he saw something just miss him and it wasn't a meteor."

"Really? Did anyone ever confirm this? How did you find out about it?" Clark leaned forward slightly, his interest piqued.

"I found out from Daddy, who told me it was a bunch of nonsense. But the interesting thing is that Lionel Luthor took great pains to make sure that man told as few people as possible."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the guy told Dad, and a few other people at Luthor Corp. and then Mr. Luthor had the whole thing suppressed. He told everyone that if they repeated it they would lose their jobs. Right after that the pilot went AWOL."

Clark scowled. "Why would Lionel care? I don't get it. Was there a ship? If so, who was in it?"

"Certainly not you." Chloe chuckled. "Come on, Clark, you don't believe this do you?"

Chewing on his lip, Clark thought hard, then snapped his fingers. "Chloe! Who else was adopted that year? Can you find out? Check the adoption records for Lowell and surrounding counties?"

Chloe shrugged and pushed her purse further back onto her shoulder. "Sure. Might take me a day or two." Suddenly her brows dipped, and she cocked her head, staring at Clark with an odd expression . "But I can tell you right off the top of my head one person besides you and Corbin who were adopted that year," she said thoughtfully.

"Who?"

"Alexander J. Luthor."

Clark's mouth fell open. "Chloe," he said when he recovered. "You have got to do some digging for me."

* * *

He and Corbin had been identical twins.

Clark sat in the living room with a photo album open across his lap. His parents had taken down the pictures on the walls in their grief, but the photo album was still full of pictures of the four of them. It was weird to see himself staring up from glossy photographs with the person he looked like now standing next to him. Corbin lacked the scars left behind on "Clark" by the bull incident. He had looked like Clark _should_ look.

He turned the pages, looking at memories he didn't have. What had it been like growing up normal, with a normal family, with a brother? He ran his fingers over the surface of the photographs, touching laughter and sunshine. What had it been like to lose him? Was it like the ache he felt now, knowing that if he were to go up to the mansion, nobody would invite him in for a game of pool? He touched a picture of two identical small boys, spread out on the floor reading comic books.

_Warrior Angel. God. Lex. What is going on here?_

"Do you miss him?"

Clark started. He'd not heard her come in. He hastily shut the album. "Mom. When did you get home?"

"Just a few minutes ago. I was outside talking to your father." She looked at him sympathetically. "It's okay to miss him," she said softly. "I do, every day."

"Yeah. I know." Clark said. He put the album down on the coffee table. How could he tell her he didn't even remember Corbin, and that who he missed was the person who had put him in the hospital?

Martha smiled a little. "Hungry?"

"Yeah, but mostly tired."

"Dinner is going to be a while. Why don't you have a nap first?"

Clark rubbed at his temples. A nap and some Darvocet sounded exceptionally tempting and he said so. His head was pounding as usual and his back ached right between the shoulder blades.

Martha rolled him into his temporary bedroom and helped him get from the chair into the bed, tucking him in as if he were a child, and planting a kiss on his forehead. As she started to move away, he took her by the hand.

"Mom?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"I'm sorry about Corbin. I know you miss him too."

She came back to him with a faint smile on her lips. Her hand was light against the short spikes of his hair. "I'm just happy we didn't lose you too. It was so hard to see you lying there in that hospital bed. It was like going through Corbin's illness all over again. I kept thinking I'd come in and you'd be gone."

Clark squeezed her hand. "I'm okay, Mom."

"I know." Martha kissed him again. "I love you."

"I love you too."

At least some things were the same.

As he settled into his pillow, staring up at the ceiling from the only position available to him - flat on his back - Clark sighed deeply.

* * *

"Man, you won't believe the stuff I dug up on Lex," Chloe announced, as she burst into Clark's bedroom and flopped down into a chair beside the bed. He was just coming around from his nap, and yawned hugely as he watched her dig around in her bag.

"Like what?" Clark struggled to sit up. Chloe paused in her rummaging to help him, propping his pillows carefully behind his sore back. "Like what?" he repeated.

"Well, he was adopted through an agency called..."

They spoke in tandem.

"Metropolis United Charities."

Chloe scowled. "Right."

"And he was the only adoption they processed."

"Right. If you knew all this, Clark, why did you have me research it?"

"Just keep going. What else did you find out?"

"Well, he showed up after the meteor shower. Lionel found him lying in a field, sans clothes and parents, and when nobody turned up to claim him, Lionel took the kid in, and eventually adopted him. That's the official story. But here's the weird part. There are no medical records on Lex anywhere. There is no record of him spending any time in any hospitals or foster programs prior to the time Lionel adopted him or, for that matter, afterward. Metropolis United Charities went under right after the adoption, or so the records say. Lex was tutored at home. He never attended school."

"Yeah but wouldn't it make sense to keep him secluded given the Luthors economic status? Someone could kidnap him, blackmail Lionel."

Chloe cocked her head at him. "What?"

Clark stared back, then frowned. "Don't tell me they don't have money."

"No, not anymore," Chloe said, giving him a small half smile as if humoring him. "They had some, but in the early nineties Luthor Corp. stock started falling. They ended up with nothing but the plant here in Smallville, and after the environmental issues cropped up, Lionel filed for bankruptcy. Lex poured what little money he had left into a new corporation, LexCorp. going into partnership with Daddy. That's why he was here the day of the accident, he was meeting with the inspectors from the EPA to go over the new pollution control measures they'd had initiated."

"So Lionel isn't a billionaire?"

The laugh answered his question.

"No. He never was, nor a millionaire or any sort of "aire" at all. He had a few fertilizer plants around the Midwest, but one by one they started failing. He always blamed your father and what he called hippy farmers pushing the organic craze."

"It wasn't a Porsche." Clark murmured.

"That Lex ran you over with? Huh-uh. It was a beat up Firebird with more rust on it than paint. The first thing they probably did when they brought you to the hospital was give you a tetanus shot."

"So, Lionel would have no real reason to keep Lex so isolated, unless he wasn't what he appeared to be."

Chloe snickered. She leaned back in her chair and rested her feet on the edge of Clark's bed. "I can believe that. Lex always was pretty odd. But you know, he sure pulled some people's fat out of the fire, including mine once. He always seemed to be around when someone got in trouble."

"Exactly. That proves it. Lex is him, then. Or me, I guess." Scowling, Clark poked a finger under the top of his left cast and scratched his leg. Stupid casts. "But if Lex was me, then how come he died? He should have been able to free himself. I know I can - could - hold my breath for almost an hour."

"I don't know why you're so worried about that, you have more important concerns. Your brains are scrambled eggs, Clark, and Lex is gone. If you figure out the mystery, it still isn't going to bring him back."

"But it may help me get back to where I belong! Maybe if that happens, Lex wouldn't be dead here." He scowled. "But I don't know what affect me leaving would have on this world. Would your Clark die? Or would Lex be able to save him?"

Chloe grew very quiet. Her eyes met his. "Not that I believe any of this, Clark, but I don't want you to go back. I don't want to lose you too. You're one of my closest friends."

He attempted a smile. "What about Whitney?"

She shrugged. "We've been having problems lately. He was pretty pissed when I stood him up to come here. He didn't like the time I spent at the hospital when you were there, either."

"You were there?"

"As much as I could be. I used to read to you."

"Thanks."

Smiling shyly, Chloe shrugged again. Nervously she fingered at her necklace, pulling it out from the neck of her sweater and toying with the stone. It was identical to Lana's meteor rock necklace, but this rock was darker, nearly black.

Clark frowned. "Chloe, where did you get that?"

She glanced down at the necklace. "Oh, this? Laura made it for me for my birthday last year." Her eyes narrowed when he looked at her blankly. "Laura, my geeky friend Laura Potter? She lives next door Clark, you call her Bug because of her glasses."

"Her name is Laura?"

"Uh-huh."

"Not Lana?"

"No, Clark. I think I can be counted on to know my best friend's name. I'm not the one with a brain injury." Chloe laughed. "What's with you and this Lana person?"

He put his head in his hands, suddenly feeling exceptionally overwhelmed by it all. "I want to go home," he moaned.

A second later he was staring intently at Chloe once again.

"Chloe! Where is Lex's car now?"


	3. Chapter 3

Laura was, of course, Lana, but not. She had short cropped hair and great, big, round glasses with uber-thick lenses that did indeed make her look bug-eyed. She also had a mouthful of hardware and dressed like a grunge rocker - several years out of fashion. Chloe called her over to drive them to the junkyard because Clark insisted on going with them and he didn't fit in Chloe's car. Laura told them she would, and she'd meet them shortly with their transportation.

Just after sunset Chloe, who had been invited to stay for dinner since she had canceled her movie date, helped Clark out onto the porch and down the ramp.

He put on the brakes when he saw the car.

"Oh, my God, it's a hearse."

Laura (Lana) frowned at his tone.

Clark looked up at Chloe. She shrugged and leaned over to whisper in his ear. "Humor her. She loves that car and if you dis it she won't take us anywhere."

"What makes you think I want to go anywhere in that thing!" Clark hissed back. "I'm just recovering from having one foot in the grave, I really don't want to make the powers that be think I'd rather be dead or something!"

"We don't have to you know. I could just turn around and wheel you back inside..."

"No, no!" He shuddered. Turning his head, he sighed. "It's a nice car La-Laura."

She pushed her glasses up with her index finger. "Yeah, you're lying, Kent," she said, as she opened the door to the back. "I always know when you're telling me one."

"You do?"

"Yeah, 'cause you never call me Laura unless you're feeding me a line."

"What do I normally call you?"

She grinned. Her braces flashed dully in the fading light. "Bug." From her back pocket she pulled a marker, and before they helped Clark maneuver himself into the back of the hearse, she signed his cast. She drew a little ladybug and signed it - "L."

Like Chloe, she'd done it so he could see it right side up. He looked at it. "Thanks, Bug."

"You're welcome."

Chloe cleared her throat. "Come on. Let's get this over with." She climbed into the back with Clark and the wheelchair.

After a moment she asked, "What was that all about?"

"What?"

"That look."

"What look?"

"You flirted with Bug. You never flirt with Bug."

"I did not! I was just being polite."

With a sniff, Chloe turned to look out the window. In the front seat Bug drove along singing to something on the radio. It sounded suspiciously like _Dead Man's Party _by Oingo Boingo.

"I can't believe you were flirting with Bug."

"What do you care? You're dating Mr. Big Jock-Strap on Campus." Clark snapped back. "I can flirt with anybody I want."

"We're on the verge of a break-up."

"Chloe, are you jealous?"

"No, just...she's not right for you."

Clark laughed. "I can't win in any universe."

Bug glanced over her shoulder. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Nothing!" They chorused.

The rest of the trip to the impound yard was uneventful. They pulled up to the big gates and Bug cut the chain with a pair of bolt cutters she seemingly produced out of nowhere. Clark didn't want to know exactly why a girl who drove a hearse kept bolt cutters in her car. Visions of Frankenstein didn't make him feel any better about where he currently found himself existing.

_I'm tired of this constant headache._

He rubbed at his temples.

"You okay? You look pale." Bug whispered as she and Chloe helped him lower himself out of the car and back into his chair.

"Headache."

"That's to be expected after a brain injury," Chloe grunted as Clark's weight shifted and she got a great deal of it resting on her shoulders. "You shouldn't be here."

"Shut up and don't drop me."

"You're lucky I don't because you're being a jerk."

"Shhh." Bug bent and pulled out the leg supports on the wheelchair as Clark settled into it.. "Old man Murphy sleeps in the garage. He's hard of hearing, but he's not totally deaf!"

She dove back into the car and came back with three flashlights. Chloe looked at them suspiciously and voiced what Clark was thinking.

"You know, Laura. I really don't want to know what you do in your spare time."

Bug pushed her glasses up and sniffed. "Currently I'm studying the mating habits of the North American Brown Bat. I've set up nesting boxes in several areas around Smallville. I had to leave my ladder at home to make room for Clark."

"Bats?" Clark coughed. "You're kidding."

"Fascinating creatures." Blinking rapidly, Bug abruptly turned away and started trekking through the aisle lined with wrecked cars and piles of parts.

Chloe leaned over to Clark. "You don't want to know about the cockroach experiment," she whispered, and fell in behind her friend.

Clark brought up the rear. The only sound was the crunch of the chair's wheels and the shuffling of Bug's boots in the dirt. Bug and Chloe had started out one in front of the other but were now walking side by side. Bug, Clark noted, was still Lana underneath the ugly glasses, the weird habits and the frumpy clothes. Despite her baggy cargo pants she had Lana's pretty sway.

_I don't believe I'm looking at her butt. She's not even really Lana and I'm still looking at her butt._

He stopped looking at her butt when Chloe turned around and gave him a nasty look.

"What are we looking for again?" Bug asked.

"A beat up blue Firebird with a Clark sized dent in the front end."

"Ah."

"Actually I shouldn't joke. Your legs were hamburger, Clark. You're lucky they're still attached."

Chloe shifted the beam of her flashlight around, picking up rows and rows of battered car skeletons. Crooked bumpers leered like mouths, broken headlights stared back at them like dead eyes. Clark shuddered as the light picked up one car with its hood crumpled up like a gaping maw.

"I'm quite grateful," he said. "Despite the itching."

"Itching is good," Bug replied brightly. "It means healing."

"It means my skin is crawling with filth under these casts." Clark grumbled. "I want them off."

There was a flash of blue in the beam of Bug's flashlight. They trained all three in that direction and revealed the battered hulk of a blue Pontiac. It sat alone at the edge of the wrecking yard dripping oil into the dirt beneath it. Vegetation clung to the bumper and side mirrors and it stunk of mildew. It had definitely been for a swim.

Clark examined the shattered windshield. He looked at the massive dent in the hood and the crumpled front fender and he couldn't help but wince.

"Ow."

"No kidding. You're not just lucky to have your legs, you're lucky to be alive." Chloe whispered. She gave his shoulder a squeeze. "Look at that thing."

"Pete said Lex didn't have a scratch on him."

"He didn't," Bug said.

Chloe and Clark looked at her. She pushed her glasses up her nose.

"My Aunt Nell heard it from a friend who is the wife of the county coroner," she continued. "She said Lex didn't have any visible injuries and Lionel refused to have him autopsied. Not only that, but Lionel also had him embalmed privately. I talked to Dougie and he said his dad didn't do it."

"Dougie?"

"Doug Washburn, he's Nick Washburn's son. Nick runs the Smallville Funeral Home." Chloe explained, now getting used to Clark's memory issues. "Don't ask how she knows them," she added.

"The funeral was in Metropolis," Bug said, unphased by Chloe's last comment. "Or so I assume. News about it was sketchy."

Chloe looked at Clark. "Alien?" she whispered.

"Sounds like it. They'd find out about him during either an autopsy or an embalming." Clark whispered back.

The three of them got a little closer to the car and Clark felt a profound sadness. _His_ Lex wouldn't be caught dead driving a domestic vehicle, let alone a Pontiac Firebird. This Lex _had _died in one. What had he been like, Clark wondered. Had he been as different to the other Lex as Bug was to Lana? Or would he be like Pete and Chloe, only slightly altered? Clark would never find out.

"We need to search it."

Bug immediately backed up into Clark and scuttled around behind the wheelchair. "Oh, no. Not me." She waved her flashlight at the car. "Somebody died in that thing."

"You drive a hearse, Bug!" Clark craned his head around in an attempt to look at her - big mistake. His back yelled "whoohoo" and his breath caught from the pain. It took him a minute to recover.

"You shouldn't be here." Chloe chided, for about the millionth time.

"Yes but in a hearse the people in it have _already_ died, somewhere else." Bug continued, eyeing the Firebird dubiously from behind her glasses. She paused to push them up her nose. "This is different. We knew him."

Clark ground his teeth. "Just search the car, please."

Chloe advanced on the car with a grimace. Reluctantly Bug followed, muttering something about having to appease the spirits after it was all over. Clark wondered what small animal she was going to sacrifice. He watched them poke around in the car from a distance, holding his flashlight up to help them see better. With his free hand he rubbed his temples.

_I have to get this resolved tonight._

Chloe's head popped up over the top of the car from the opposite side. "What are we looking for, Clark? If you told us that would really help."

"A meteorite. Look under the seat, or in the glove compartment."

It was Bug who came up with it. It was a small fragment, not much bigger than the stone in Chloe's necklace, and it had been placed under the floor mat on the driver's side. The newspapers said Lex lost control of his car because of something that had fallen off a truck into the road, but Clark now had another theory. He was beginning to doubt Lex was even conscious when the car went off the bridge. The accident wasn't an accident at all. Someone had planted the meteorite specifically to harm Lex, this world's alien. Who?

"Who?" Clark murmured aloud, turning the rock over in his hand. "And why?"

"Someone who knew what he was?" Chloe inquired. "Or maybe it was just a coincidence that it was there, Clark. You don't know."

"No, this was definitely deliberate, Chloe. Whenever I came in contact with this stuff I was immediately sick." His fist closed around the stone as he looked up at the girls. "Someone was in that car with him. That's the only explanation, and it had to be someone who knew his secret."

Bug blinked at him from behind her thick glasses. "Knew what secret? What are you talking about?"

"It's a long story, Bug." Chloe sighed. "And pretty out of this world- literally. We'll explain on the way home."


	4. Chapter 4

"So now what?" Bug whispered.

They were sitting on the Kents' front porch. Chloe was curled up on the swing, wrapped in a blanket, fast asleep. Clark was fighting to keep his eyes open, looking out on the darkened barnyard as he sipped a cup of coffee. Bug sat beside him on the steps. She glanced over at him as she spoke and pushed her glasses up on her nose. It was a habitual gesture Clark was getting used to the more time he spent with her.

"I don't know. I've been turning everything around in my head and coming up with few answers."

"Have you considered giving up?"

He looked down into his mug. "Yes."

"And what stops you?"

"The fact that this is wrong, Bug. Your Lex shouldn't be dead. In my world, I may be dead. That can't happen. Others may be hurt if I don't fix it."

"What if you can't fix it, Clark? Then what will you do? What if the person who killed Lex comes after you?"

"I'll just have to leave Smallville, try to stay ahead of him, and keep trying to make things right. I don't know, that's all I can do."

She looked away into the night. "Chloe doesn't believe you. You know that don't you? She's worried. She thinks you're sick so she's humoring you."

"I know."

As she turned, the lights from the porch glinted on Bug's glasses. She glanced up at him, studied his face before speaking. "I believe you," she said softly. "You aren't the person I knew. We grew up together, me, Corbin, and Clark, so I know. He always called me Bug and made fun of me. Corbin made him stop. He wasn't as kind as you are. That was Corbin. Corbin was always kind to me, he never called me Bug. He called me Laura." She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, hugging herself. "He used to watch me from the loft. He had a telescope up there and sometimes he'd flash a flashlight out the window. I'd come over and we'd look at the stars."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. We never told anybody. It was our secret. He said when we got to High School he'd give me his ring, and then it wouldn't be a secret anymore." Her voice cracked a little. "I miss him."

Clark put his cup down on the little table next to his mother's rocking chair, and moved his chair closer to the steps. Bug's hair was shorter, but just as soft as Lana's. Beneath his hand he could feel her shivering, but not from the cold. At his touch she turned to look up at him, and he hooked a finger around one corner of her glasses, pulling them away from her face.

Her eyes were Lana's eyes, filled with tears that ran down Lana's face. She blinked up at him and wiped the tears away with the back of one hand.

"Don't wake up Chloe," she said.

He smiled. "I'm not the one crying."

She took her glasses away from him, but held them folded in her hands instead of replacing them on her face. "I told you I believed you, and I do. I've been trying to figure out if I want you to stay, or if I want you to go back."

"What did you decide?"

"I want you to go back, Clark. You don't belong here, and if you stay..."

"If I stay, what?"

Bug wiped at her eyes, and put her glasses back on. "Chloe wants to break up with Whitney. She's always liked you. I think she might like this version better."

Clark leaned back in his chair and regarded her solemnly. "Like you do?"

Turning back to look out across the yard, Bug shrugged. "Chloe gets what she wants. She's got that confidence, you know? I don't try to compete with that." Abruptly she stood, glancing over her shoulder with a small smile. "It's late. I should go."

He raised his fingers in a small wave, but he smiled at her. "Thank you for your help, Bug."

"No probs."

As she skipped lightly down the last stair and moved off toward the hulking black form of the hearse, Clark called to her softly.

"Laura?"

She stopped. "Yeah?"

"Where I come from, I love you," he said, and added quickly, "If that's any consolation."

Her smile told him it was.

* * *

Three weeks passed since the midnight excursion to examine the remains of Lex's car and they were no closer to solving the mystery. In fact, they seem to have hit a brick wall.

Clark was certainly no help. In the past weeks he'd gotten his casts off and was busy learning how to walk again with the help of crutches and a lot of extraordinarily painful physical therapy. It exhausted him and made him grumpy. More than that the frustration of being trapped in such a weak body was slowly driving him mad. He was also still suffering from migraine headaches. Frequently Chloe or Bug would come over to see him and he would be asleep.

During one physical therapy session he'd broken down into tears.

_Okay, I'm tired of being normal. I just want to go home_!

He decided then that it was time to get back to the case. Clark called Chloe over, and the two of them now sat at the Kents' kitchen table leafing through Chloe's notebook. She tapped her pencil against the paper as she spoke.

"So you're not in your right mind, or body as the case may be. Lex is dead, presumably from some sort of alien poison produced by the meteorites. Lionel is proving to be unaccessible." With a chuckle she rolled her eyes at him. "There is no spaceship in your parents' storm cellar."

"We haven't checked out the caves yet. That's where it happened, where I got zapped."

Chloe screwed up her face in a "pondering" expression. Both eyebrows went up, however, after only a moments thought, meaning she was back to doubting Clark's sanity. She tended to waffle between believing Clark's wild tale, and wanting to ship him off to Belle Reve.

"Clark there are no caves, this is Kansas. If you haven't noticed, which you should have considering you live on a farm, it's pretty flat. If you don't believe me," she added, seeing Clark's scowl, "ask Bug. If there are caves, there are bats, and she's all about bats these days."

Clark sighed wearily.

From the other room Clark could hear the sounds of a football game and Martha's quiet comments as she worked on the finances. There was another worry. This Kent family struggled even more with money, and were drowning under the burden of Corbin and Clark's medical bills. If he set things right, would that change? And what was going on in his own world? From little hints he'd been given here and there, this world's Clark had a few issues. What would happen if he were running around in that other world with Clark's abilities?

_Don't think about that. Just concentrate on figuring this out and get it resolved_. _One thing at a time._

Chloe quietly got up from her seat. Clark heard the fridge open and close and she brought him a glass of iced tea. "You look like you needed it," she said. "For someone supposedly on the mend, you look pretty rough, Clark."

He sighed again, and took a sip of the tea. "Chloe," he said quietly. "I just want to figure out what's going on. No, I _need_ to figure out what's going on."

She regarded him solemnly. "And if it turns out this is just some sort of weird side effect of your head injury?"

Clark's chest hurt at the very thought. He had no choice but to nod. "Then I'll accept it. I'll have to."

Chloe's expression was pained. "Clark, we've got zilch," she said sympathetically.

"We've still got the caves. I'm sure that's where we'll find some answers. For all we know, I'm still lying there in the dirt!" He cocked his head and attempted a weak smile. "Well, sort of."

"Right." Leaning over, Chloe picked up her bag from the floor. "Look, tomorrow's Saturday, right? Whitney and I are going to the Met U game in Metropolis tomorrow evening. I'll tell him I feel like taking in some fall color and we'll go exploring. Okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Chlo." Clark smiled as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "I thought you and Whitney..."

She shook her head. "I know, I know. On again, off again. I just...can't do that to him, Clark."

"Yeah."

_Lana never could either._

"I'll see ya."

"Chloe, wait!"

She turned around halfway toward the door. "Yes?"

"Be careful out there. When Pete and I found the caves before, we ran into a shape-shifting girl."

"Shapeshifting?"

"Werewolf."

Chloe's face fell.

"Clark, _please_ talk to your doctor."

He gave her a look of his own. "I'm _fine_ Chloe. Honest. Just...keep humoring me. For now."

After a pause, she nodded. "Okay, I'm trusting you on this, but only because you're my friend."

* * *

Clark missed Bug, and not in the same way he would have missed Lana. It worried him. He thought he might like Bug better. Somehow that felt like a betrayal, even though he and Lana weren't officially together and Bug was still...Lana. It occurred to him to wonder if Chloe wasn't feeling similarly conflicted. She had liked the other Clark, but he'd definitely sensed a similar attraction toward himself.

Bug wasn't so charitable when it came to the other Clark. He was too rowdy, too rough, and sometimes his fuse burned too quickly. The only thing they seemed to agree upon had been their affection for Corbin. Clark and his brother had been very close.

He gritted his teeth as he crutched his way down the ramp and out into the yard. Both legs were out of their casts, but he wore braces designed to help support him while he regained his strength. If he couldn't play football before, he certainly couldn't now. He was so full of metal he'd never be able to fly without setting airport security on its ear.

The stairs to the loft were still off limits as far as Jonathan and Martha were concerned. Clark, however, missed his solitude. He planned on making it up those stairs if he had to scootch up backward on his ass. Martha's cell phone was in his back pocket just in case he fell.

_Maybe I'll give Laura a call and see if she'll come over. Get her away from her bats for a while_

Bug was definitely _not_ Lana by any stretch of the imagination, but Clark _did_ find her attractive physically, and although he hated to admit it, he was getting used to her quirks. This Chloe, despite the occasional reminder that she ran with the popular crowd (Clark's Chloe would never have _dreamed_ of such a thing.) was enough like his own that their comraderie came easily. Likewise he had a fairly easy friendship with this world's Pete.

But Bug had taken some effort, and Clark was finding that effort well worth the rewards.

_I really like he_r.

_But I really like Chloe too. _

He winced. It all left him unsure about how he felt regarding either girl, and _that_ being a familiar predicament, gave him some measure of comfort.

At the barn doors he stopped, withdrawing the cell phone from his pocket. If anything she could help him get up the stairs to the loft. He started to dial.

Just as he realized her phone number might not be the same as Lana's, Clark heard the screech of tires as a car left the paved road and started up Hickory Lane in a cloud of dust. He stopped in mid stride. The car was big, and it was coming up fast.

"Hey!"

Bug jerked the wheel and the big Caddy that was her hearse slid sideways and came to a stop, spraying Clark with gravel. It's engine roared as she rolled down the window. "Clark! Quick! Get in!"

"Laura! What's going on?"

She scrambled out of the driver's seat and hurried to help him maneuver himself into the car, literally snatching his crutches out of his hands and hurling them into the back as soon as his butt met the seat.

"Chloe found those caves! She just called me." Her eyes, already huge behind her thick glasses, grew bigger. "And she found something else too!"

"What?"

Bug slammed the door shut without answering his question. When she resumed her position behind the wheel, he repeated it. He also hung on for dear life as she spun the car around and tore off back down the lane.

"I don't know, she wouldn't say, but she sounded funny, scared kinda, and Chloe doesn't scare easily."

"I know that," Clark muttered. "I thought she went with Whitney? Don't tell me she went hunting for those caves on her own!"

Nodding, Bug pushed her glasses up her nose. "Whitney had to work at his Dad's store this morning. He couldn't go. I..." She blushed. "Overslept."

Clark chuckled. "Out with your bats again?"

The blush deepened. "Yeah."

"I'm surprised you didn't find those caves first!"

"Judging from the directions Chloe gave me, nobody would have ever known they were there. They're part of an old Indian reservation in a conservation area. Frankly, nobody is _allowed_ to poke around in there." Her gaze left the road for a moment to look at Clark. "Clark I'm not sure you're going to be able to get to them on crutches."

He gritted his teeth. "I'll get to them."


	5. Chapter 5

They found Chloe's car half hidden in the woods off the side of a barely-there maintenance road used only by the park rangers. Bug dropped Clark off and went to find another place to park the hearse in case they were spotted. Clark knew exactly where they were, and even before Bug got back he was working his way down the grassy road. It was when he had to leave the road and go into the woods that he stopped to wait. Bug was panting a little when she finally arrived and her glasses were fogged.

He chuckled at her. "My Lana jogs every morning before school."

Bug huffed. "This Lana is not a morning person." She peered off into the woods. "In there?"

"In there."

In Clark's world there was a small dirt path that snaked off toward the caves. In this world no body knew the caves were there and the path was non-existent. Tangled undergrowth and downed trees were all that could be seen. There wasn't even any evidence of Chloe making her way through, but then she might have gone in a different direction.

"Clark, are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes."

"Okay, but take it slowly."

There wasn't really any other way to take it but slowly. Bug went first, carefully picking out the best path before coming back to help Clark navigate it. Pure, stubborn determination guided Clark's way through every obstacle and the pain that started to dog him with every step. Beneath the top layer of dry leaves was a damp, rotten layer, and once Clark's crutch slipped sideways on him. His full weight came down on his right leg and the pain nearly blinded him. Bug helped hold him up while he gathered himself once more.

Her face was crumpled with worry. "You've gone pale. Hurts?"

"Like mad," Clark cleared his throat. "Give me a second. We're really close."

Bug looked around. "Some people say this place is haunted."

"Don't the Kawatchi live nearby?"

"The last Native Americans left Lowell County years ago," Bug replied. She produced a water bottle from one of the pockets of her long black overcoat. Clark drank gratefully. Despite the chill in the air his efforts were making him sweat. "It's their ghosts who haunt this place."

"I can deal with ghosts at this point. Shapeshifters - probably not."

Nervously, Bug looked over her shoulder. When she saw Clark watching her she blushed. "It's funny that your - friend - is named Lana. That was my mother's name. Nell changed my name to Potter when she adopted me. My parents were Lana and Henry Small."

"Was it...the meteor shower?" Clark asked softly.

Bug shook her head. "No," she replied, as she stood up and dusted leaves off her coattails. "It was a couple of years afterward, on my sixth birthday. We went to see Sesame Street Live in Metropolis." Turning her head, she presented her profile to Clark. Her expression was wistful, sad, and full of pain. "We were on the way back to the car after the show. It was late, dark. A man tried to rob us." She took a deep breath before continuing. "My parents were gunned down in cold blood, and all the guy got were a few dollars and a maxed out credit card."

"I'm sorry," Clark whispered.

She shrugged, and gave him a wry smile. "Some birthday, huh?"

Clark beckoned her forward. Leaning down, he gently kissed her on the forehead.

"Thanks." There was a pause, as if she were going to say something else. Her eyes spoke volumes behind her glasses. Clark waited, but she only added: "We'd better go."'

"Sure."

Turning away, Bug set off once again through the woods. Clark struggled along beside her, counting his blessings.

The first rock out-cropping appeared out of the forest like a shipwreck out of a deep, dark sea. One really didn't expect it. Nothing but trees surrounded you and then all of a sudden there was a large black rock. Clark guided Bug around it until they found the cave opening.

"Chloe?"

"Here!" Her voice echoed slightly from the depths of the cave. "Come down! Be careful though, there looks like there's been a bit of a cave-in near the entrance."

From another pocket in her large overcoat, Bug removed a flashlight. Gingerly making their way over the debris littering the floor just inside, Clark and Bug progressed deeper into the cave. Once inside the floor was sandy, easier to navigate, and Clark took the lead. He felt a sense of "home" here. Moving into the main cavern and seeing all the familiar glyphs upon the walls reinforced that feeling.

Chloe stood in the middle of the cavern, the beam of her flashlight trained on a series of glyphs just above her head. When she heard Clark and Bug approaching she spoke, but did not tear her gaze away.

"These are beautiful, like nothing I've ever seen before."

Clark nodded. "It is beautiful." He reached out a hand to touch the nearest drawing. "The Kawatchi made these, but they tell the store of visitors from another planet. My ancestors." His voice grew wistful. "I wish I could read them."

Turning to look at him, Chloe shook her head slightly. "Clark, if I didn't believe you before, I'm definitely beginning to think there's something to all this."

He laughed. "Thank you!"

She turned her flashlight off. "Come with me."

They moved deeper into the caves. Bug flashed her light around the ceilings and walls. "That's strange," she said quietly.

"What is?" Clark whispered back.

"There _are_ no bats. There are no signs of any wildlife at all."

"That doesn't surprise me," Chloe turned her head toward them. She looked excited, but at the same time, somewhat nervous. "These caves are unearthly. Here. Look."

The three of them came to a halt before a fissure in the rock face of one wall. It was just wide enough for a man to pass through. It was not dark, as one would have thought, instead its interior glowed with a strange white light that did not broadcast itself any further than the fissure itself.

Stooping, Chloe picked up a rock from the cave floor and tossed it toward the fissure. It vanished without a sound.

"What is it?" Bug breathed.

Chloe and Clark exchanged glances. He voiced what she was trying not to say.

"I think it's a crack, a crack between worlds."

With a flip of her finger, Chloe turned on her flashlight. She pointed it toward the floor where there were footprints in the dust. There were two sets, one went in and then came back out of the fissure. Clark moved his foot up next to that set and made a comparison.

The were the same.

"If I'm in this body," he said quietly. "Your Clark must be in mine, and he's discovered this portal."

"But there are two sets of prints," Chloe said. "Who made the others?"

Clark looked at the prints. He thought he recognized the size and shape of them, but was puzzled by the fact they did not seem to come out of the fissure. They only went into it.

"I may be wrong, but I think they belong to Lex Luthor."

"But he's dead!" Bug protested. She moved slightly closer to Clark. "Isn't he?"

* * *

Clark stood at the bottom of the loft stair looking up into his sanctuary. The visit to the caves had brought more questions than answers. Besides the odd fissure, which none of them dared to investigate further, and the footprints, they'd found nothing. Now he wanted to play a hunch, and that hunch was entirely dependant on him getting up into the loft. The only way he was going to be able to do that would be to climb, or fly. Since the latter was impossible it looked like he was going to have to do some climbing. 

He had a little water left in the last bottle Bug had given him at the caves. He also had a bottle of his pain killers, two of which he swallowed down with the last of the water.

"Here goes nothing."

Bracing his arms on either side of the railing, Clark pushed himself up the first step, and then the next, trying to keep most of his weight on his arms instead of his feet. It was similar to what he was doing in physical therapy, only there he didn't have gravity working against him.

_And the travel distance is shorter._

Every step hurt. Every time his full weight came down on legs still mending he thought his head would explode. The pain was as bad as being exposed to meteorite fragments, only that was temporary. Since the day he'd awakened in the hospital Clark had felt pain to varying degrees. It dogged him day and night. It didn't go away. And this...was agony.

Step by step by step he dragged himself upward. His arms felt like jello. His legs hurt so badly he imagined he could hear the bones grinding together. It certainly felt as if the breaks had rebroken and the shattered pieces were grinding themselves to dust under the abuse.

_One more. Come on, Clark, just one more._

His palms were sweating, threatening the precarious grip he had on the railing. He didn't dare look down nor cease his upward momentum for very long lest vertigo claim him. The last thing he wanted to do was fall and reinjure bones already as fragile as eggshells. He curled his fingers tighter around the wooden railing. Had he been himself it would have been crushed to splinters.

_But I'm not myself._

Frustration fueled a second wind. Gritting his teeth he gave one last heave, pulling himself up the last few steps and into the loft.

He collapsed to the floor, and there he lay panting and shivering, listening to his heart beat fast in his chest. The air was chill, and his hair was damp from sweat. Sweat ran down his back and dampened his shirt beneath his jacket. As he watched, a small bead of it ran down to the end of his nose and dripped onto the floor.

He wiped his face on his sleeve and sat up.

The loft was the same as when he'd left it. Nothing was different in this world from his own, save for the picture sitting on the desk. Without the benefit of his crutches, which he had left at the bottom of the stairs, he was force to virtually crawl across the floor on his elbows. His arms were so weak it took him a moment to drag himself up into the chair. He rested again as he examined the photograph.

"Corbin," he whispered.

It was another picture of the two brothers, each with their arm around the other. Both were smiling Clark's brilliant smile. They were identical save for the obvious bump on the other Clark's nose, and the scar on his lip. Clark stared at the picture for a long time before setting it aside. Methodically he began searching the desk.

He found nothing, at least nothing that he wouldn't have found in his own desk at home. There were old term papers, sheaths of astronomy notes, magazines, photographs and a few old childhood mementos ranging from Matchbox cars to Happy Meal toys you wound up and let race.

"Damn!" Clark put a fist down on the desk and defeated, he slumped down in the chair. "Now what?" He sat there in silence for a while, listening to the old barn creak. Down below he heard a cat rustling in the hay, scrounging around for mice.

Idly he wound up one of the toys. While he tried to organize his thoughts he let it turn around on the desk top, bumping into his hands. "Where would I have put it? Not in the house. It has to be here!"

He looked around, and in doing so let the toy fall from the desk top. His gaze followed it as it righted itself and raced across the floor only to have its race cut short by the presence of the coffee table. Clark watched it as it backed up, turned and slammed into the table again, and again, and again.

Bump.

Bump.

Bump.

His eyes traveled upward to the horse blanket he had thrown over the top of the table.

Table.

It wasn't really a table. It was an old steamer trunk.

Clark pushed himself out of the chair with a grunt, and using the loft railing to hold himself up, he moved from the desk to the couch. There he sank down into the floor again and pulled the blanket off the trunk. His fingers fumbled at the latch. Within seconds he had it opened.

From within he removed more blankets, a sweater, old cassette tapes and a broken radio. A final blanket covered the bottom.

And on the bottom, beneath the final folds of the blanket, was what he'd been looking for.

It was a large metal box, an old tool box, and it was locked with a small padlock. Clark moaned in frustration. He had no idea where the key was, nor any clue where this world's Clark would keep such a thing safe. Clark had no need of locks on his side of the crack, and locks had never before kept him out of anything. Angrily he banged the box on the floor, hoping to break the lock. It did not work.

Frantically he looked all around - and spotted a hammer hanging off the edge of one of the bookshelves. Again he used the furniture to maneuver himself around until he could reach his weapon. Once in hand, he went back to the box determined to get it open.

It took several solid blows. Clark was panting again by the time the lock finally gave way and he could pry it off. He sent it skittering across the floor. His fingers shook as he opened the box.

Inside were articles and clippings about the Luthors, candid pictures obviously taken by an amateur, and what looked to be a computer disc. Clark looked through it all and picked out a picture of Lex.

_It IS Lex, except for the hair_.

Replacing that photo he with drew another. Lionel stood with his arm around his son, smiling and looking proud. Lionel was exactly the same, except for the smile. Clark had never seen Lionel Luthor smile; smirk, yes, smile, no.

_What were you like?_ Clark wondered. _Could we have been friends if the outcome of the accident been different? You have my gifts. Would you trust me enough to tell me your secrets?_

With a melancholy air, he continued to dig through the box. Besides the photographs and clippings there was a notebook, filled with pages and pages of his own barely legible scrawl and a small wooden box. Clark leafed through the notebook. His eyes widened as he read some of the entries.

_He knew!_

The other Clark had known Lex's secret. He'd been gathering information regarding the Luthors for over a year. His primary focus had been on the fertilizer plant and it's operations. He had notes regarding everything from day to day operations to the exact chemical formulas that made up the product. He had discovered the space ship story, and how Lionel had suppressed it. He'd actually interviewed a witness who swore he saw a child walk out of the downed ship.

And he'd seen some of the things Lex could do.

Clark's eyes darted to the small wooden box in his hand. He flicked it open. It was lined with a thick layer of lead, but the stone it once held was gone.

_And what does this mean? On the other side of the void is it possible that Lex knows - about me?_

"Oh my God," he breathed.

In the next instant he looked up sharply as he heard someone step up into the loft.

"I wondered when you would figure it out."


	6. Chapter 6

Startled, Clark dropped the box. He hadn't heard anyone on the stairs, but then again, he might not have. Scrambling backward a bit, he braced his back on the couch and levered himself up from the floor to the cushions. His eyes were wide as he stared in horror at the man standing at the top of the stairs.

_It's me, but not me. It's this Clark in my body!_

"You," he stammered. "You killed Lex!"

The other Clark did not reply. Casually he approached, bending to pick up the journal as he advanced. He thumbed through it with a disinterested air. Of course he'd be disinterested. He'd written its contents.

"He picked me up, asked me if I needed a ride home." He looked up, and let the journal fall from his fingers. His eyes bored into Clark's. "Did you realize Lex knew Corbin? My brother worked summers at the plant. Dad didn't want him to, but he did, and then he got sick. They were doing experiments, some sort of alien experiments there. Luthor only got what he deserved. He killed my brother."

"So you killed him? An eye for an eye, is that it?"

"He wasn't human."

Clark scowled. "And neither are you!" he protested. "Not if you're wearing my body."

The smile that crossed the other Clark's face was chilling. "That was unexpected. Whatever you did in your world apparently saved my life. Lex came around just as I was about to jump out of the car to safety. He grabbed me, kept me from getting away before the car hit the bridge railing."

Realization dawned. "You didn't hit the windshield from the outside, you went through the windshield from _inside_ the car!"

The smile broadened. "No, _you_ went through the windshield, and I somehow got swept away through the portal into your body." He chuckled, and moved easily around the loft, always keeping Clark within his gaze. "I've learned a lot in these past few months, while I pretended to be you, Clark. Makes me _almost_ feel sorry for this world's alien."

"This world's alien should not have died. We shouldn't be like this. You don't know what consequences this could have on both our worlds!"

With a smirk, the other Clark gave him a patronizing look. "I know one thing, Clark. I know that as long as the portal remains open, and I have possession of this body, I am the most powerful being in both universes. I can come and go at will. I can do whatever I want, have whatever I want. I can have whoever I want too."

Clark froze. "Lana," he whispered.

The other Clark stopped his pacing. He gave Clark an appraising look and began walking toward him. "She is - tempting," he replied quietly. "Look, I've nothing against you, so don't take this personally, but I think it would be best for all of us if there were only one Clark Kent roaming around between universes, don't you?"

As quick as a flash he'd grabbed Clark by the throat. Clark's first instinct was to grasp the arm that held him, despite the fact he knew he would not be able to break the vice-like grip around his throat. His feet dangled. He couldn't breathe. Even more frightening was the face hovering so near his own. It was like looking into a mirror, but a warped and twisted mirror.

"You should have died in that accident. Your existence here is nothing but a complication."

Clark gasped. "You...you can't do this."

"I can, and I will. I've blended in quite well in your world, Clark. No one suspects anything. You and I could have gone on living our separate lives and no one would have been the wiser."

"This isn't...right! You weren't meant for my abilities. You're not..." Clark sucked in a trickle of breath and choked out his last word. "Me!"

He was jerked closer. "I'm more than you could ever be," the other Clark hissed. "I would have left you alone, but you had to open your big mouth to Chloe!"

"Chloe wasn't the only one he told, Clark!"

"Laura!" Clark choked. He felt the grip around his throat tighten. He kicked his legs, struggling to free himself. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her approaching and as she grew closer he saw his salvation.

In her hand was the meteor rock they'd found in Lex's car.

"He also told me."

Bug stalked across the loft floor with her arm outstretched. The stone glowed bright green as the other Clark cringed away from it, casting an eerie light across her face. It glinted off the lenses of her glasses. Clark could not feel its effects, but his doppleganger obviously could. His fingers loosened just enough for Clark to draw a breath.

"Let's see how you like a dose of your own medicine," Bug growled. "Put him down. Put him down now!"

Her Clark backed up, but took his captive with him. "Or what, _Bug_?" he smirked.

Wordlessly she pulled a slingshot out of one of her pockets. Very carefully she fitted the stone into the cup and pulled it back. "You remember shooting bottles with me and Corbin don't you? You're a much bigger target than a root beer bottle Clark. I'm pretty sure this thing can punch a pretty good sized hole in you, and you know, that just might hurt."

Clark groaned as he was pulled close. For a brief moment he thought he would be used as a shield and had a terrified vision of Bug putting a meteor rock through his heart. He was on the verge of panic when he heard his own voice growling at him. "This isn't over."

* * *

That was the last thing he heard before the floor came up to smack him in the face.

"Power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely."

"Clark never was the person Corbin was, and he's not like this Clark, but I never thought he'd stoop this low. I'm sorry, Chloe."

"Well, with the exception of Whitney I always have managed to pick real winners haven't I?"

Clark blinked. The girls' voices were hushed, but he could tell they sat nearby. He was lying on the couch in the loft, covered in a blanket. His body ached all over and he could feel the bruises around his neck throbbing. He moaned. He thought he moaned. He must have moaned, for the conversation ceased and Chloe came into his line of vision.

"Hey! Are you okay?"

Swallowing heavily, he nodded, which did nothing for his aching head. His voice was full of gravel. "I think so. Help me up."

Chloe helped him sit up. After his head stopped spinning he turned his attention to Bug, who sat cross legged on the floor looking through the journal he'd found.

"Thanks," he said. "But how did you know?"

She pushed her glasses up with one finger. "I saw him," she said simply. "I was coming home from the Flower Shop and I saw him cross the road near Crater Lake Drive. I thought I'd seen a ghost..." Her voice lowered, grew wistful. "He looks like Corbin."

Chloe nodded. "We saw him too. I had to convince Whitney he was imagining things."

"Meanwhile I followed him here, and heard him talking to you. Just lucky I still had that rock in my pocket." Bug glanced down at the notebook in her lap. "Clark, he's dangerous. Corbin's death really messed him up. There's no telling what he'll do next. And if what you say about your powers is true, there won't be anyone around to stop him."

Clark looked quickly to Chloe as he saw her slowly shaking her head. "What is it."

"I think we might have a way to stop him, or at least keep him from killing you," she said. "I didn't tell Laura what else I saw tonight." She cleared her throat. "While we were parked and I was trying to convince Whitney he hadn't seen a ghost, I saw someone else come out of the woods."

Bug and Clark spoke in unison. "Who?"

"Lex Luthor," Chloe said. "And it was _our_ Lex Luthor."

"He failed!" Clark breathed. "Lex isn't dead."

"No, he's not, and my guess is that he's been laying low while he keeps an eye on Clark. We may have an ally."

Clark nodded. "If he's following Clark he may be aware that we know what's going on. Let's hope he tries to make contact. We've all got to get our heads together on this thing, and if Lex is really this world's alien, we're going to need his powers."

"But," Bug said quietly. "What if Clark was actually right, and Lex isn't the hero of the story?"

Startled, Clark stared at her. It had never occurred to him that Lex could be anything but the good guy. After all, _he_ was a good alien. He'd always understood the fact that people could be turned off if they found out the truth about him, or that they'd want to study him, but never that they'd see him as a threat needing to be eliminated.

Chloe was nodding. "She's got a point, Clark. What if our Clark was doing the right thing by getting Lex out of the way, and now he's just drunk on having your powers."

"Well," Clark said, with an air of defeat. "Then we're screwed."

* * *

He slept with a meteor rock in the pocket of his pajamas, and he slept deep under the influence of pain medication, for every bone, every joint, every muscle in his body ached. His dreams were all in midnight blue and gray, the faces in them twisted into warped versions of the people he knew - and they were all running away from him. They ran into the darkness and did not come back, leaving him cold and alone. He tried to claw his way back to consciousness - the drugs held him down in the dark.

It was not until dawn that he woke, and that to some six sense crying out a warning. His eyes flew open to see a dark figure hovering over him; a dark figure that was not a dream. Automatically he clutched at his chest, reassuring himself that the rock was still there and he was, relatively, safe. He scooted back toward the headboard as the figure grew closer. It came around to the side of the bed but stopped well short of where Clark lay. It could go no further. Clark swallowed heavily. Trembling, he reached over to pick up one of his crutches from where it leaned against a chair.

Faster than he could see, the figure snatched the makeshift weapon away and replaced it against the chair. Its voice was low and threatening.

"You wouldn't have gotten far with that."

"I have a meteorite," Clark said hastily. Bright green light bled through his fingers. The rock was clenched within one fist.

The voice was soft. "So I see."

In the dark all Clark could see was the shadowy outline of a man standing before the window. Watery moonlight gave him shape, but no features.

"Who are you?"

"Shouldn't I be asking that question?" When there was no reply, Clark answered. "I'm Clark Kent."

The laugh was familiar, a breathy exhalation laced with a slightly arrogant tone. "I saw Clark Kent, or what used to be him, outside this very window not five minutes ago."

Clark started, frightened. His visitor gave voice to what he was thinking.

"That meteorite saved your life tonight. Maybe twice. His footprints preceded his appearance, and are all over this farm. He's been here more than once, stalking you like a predator its prey. Why?" He repeated his first question. "Who are you, really?"

"You tell me," Clark sat up further in the bed, reaching out to flip on the table lamp beside him. The darkness receded, and he could see. "Lex."

It was Lex, clad in a t-shirt, jacket and jeans, and sporting a head of dark hair he did not have in Clark's world. His eyes glittered in the light; sharp and a brighter blue than those of the Lex Clark knew. As he walked around to the foot of the bed he moved with an economy of motion and an odd, slithering grace that one could hardly mistake for anything human. Clark felt uneasy. He wondered if he had ever come across to anyone the same way. After a moment he decided the answer was no. This Lex was more alien than Clark had ever been.

Why?

_He accepts it. He's known what he is longer than I have and he's never thought of his powers as anything but gifts. There was no denial, only understanding. He's stronger because of it. Even if I had my abilities back, I don't know if I would want to take him on._

With that thought came another.

_So, are you a good witch, or a bad witch?_

"You've been to the caves. You've seen the other side. I'm not your Clark. But," Clark added quietly. "I'm not whole. This body belongs to him."

"And I take it, "Lex replied. "He does not want it back." He tapped his fingers against the footboard. "Kryptonite or not, he would have found a way to kill you."

"I know. Lex, in my world, I am the one who isn't human. Like you."

It was not the bombshell Clark may have expected. Lex looked at him without speaking for some time, studying him as if he could discern the truth in Clark's worlds. Maybe he could. Maybe this Lex had powers Clark had only dreamed of tapping into - dreamed in nightmares. This Lex wore his alienness with ease, not like the burden Clark carried.

The blue eyes grew thoughtful, and one brow rose as questions were answered. "He's afraid of me. He doesn't understand how to use what he's been given. That's to our advantage."

"_Our_ advantage?" Clark said quietly.

Lex leaned Clark's crutches against the wall, and pulled the chair up as close to the bed as he could, straddling it backward in smooth, casual motion. He still had the other Lex's air of sophistication, but there was something more pedestrian about him. This Lex was not the pampered son of a rich man.

"This rift between worlds can't stay open."

"I know. So you'll help us?"

"I have no choice."

Clark frowned, wondering what he meant, but Lex kept speaking without explanation.

"The key, " he said. "Is in the key. It is holding the portal open, and I believe the portal is what's keeping you and this world's Clark from snapping back into your proper places. I've been to your world. The portal remains hidden there, and no one but a Kryptonian can pass through it, but there are men crawling all over those caverns and as long as they are there the key cannot be removed. The caves protect themselves."

"So if we remove the key, everything will go back to normal?"

"I think so, but I can't be certain."

"How did it happen in the first place?"

Lex shrugged. "The only conclusion I've been able to draw is that our two worlds were passing close to each other, or perhaps in some sort of alignment, when a tear developed in the fabric separating them."

"And the body swap?"

"Coincidence. This Clark was clutching a piece of Kryptonite when he went through the windshield of my car. What is the last thing you remember?"

Clark snapped his fingers. "Your Clark was in a car accident. I got blasted by the light in the cave. We both experienced some sort of trauma at the same time."

"And while you were both unconscious the tear opened, and your minds became lost between worlds." Lex nodded. "Interesting theory."

"It's the only one I've got," Clark sighed. "I wish I could remember more about the light that hit me. I remember it hurt, at first, and I heard a voice shouting things at me; words in a language I didn't recognize. Then I blacked out."

A hint of a smile crossed Lex's face. "That was no ordinary light, Clark. If things had gone the way they were supposed to, you would have been downloaded with the first set of knowledge you're to acquire. Call it a gift from your father, your real father."

Clark straightened his shoulders. "My father?" he breathed. "Tell me..."

"I can't tell you," Lex said, and there was a note of sincere compassion in his voice. "Because I can't promise you what happened to me at your age will happen to you. It could progress in an identical manner, or not. We may hail from the same world, but we're not the same person."

Before Clark could stop himself, he spoke his thoughts out loud. "I envy you," he said softly.

Lex gave him another one of those long, cool, stares. "Don't," he said. "My life is no less lonely, no less a secret from those I care about, than yours." He stood up. "Do you trust those two girls?"

"With my life."

"But not in your own world?"

"I can't trust anyone in my own world. Not even you." Clark murmured.

"Perhaps," Lex replied just as softly. "That's very wise."

"Because you and Clark were friends - before?"

Lex met his gaze. "Before Corbin died? Before his grief drove him mad?"

"Yes," Clark breathed. He thought of his own Lex, who had also lost a brother, who sometimes seemed so - lost - sometimes.

_Don't say yes, please don't say yes._

This Lex smiled sadly, and refused to answer the question.

His silence was answer enough.


	7. Chapter 7

It was easier to get to the caves with Lex's help. Clark leaned heavily on him as they traversed the forest toward the rock outcropping. They both know Lex could have easily carried him, but Lex left him his dignity. Clark was grateful for that. Bug came behind them with the lead box and the piece of what Lex was calling Kryptonite. Chloe had gone ahead to make sure there was no sign of the other Clark. Clark had kissed her before they parted.

"Stay safe, Chlo."

"I will. It's you I'm worried about."

"I'll be fine. We've got a powerful ally in Lex. Pretty soon we'll get this wrapped up and you'll have your Clark back."

Her expression had been pained. "Clark, in a way, that's what I'm afraid of."

"You'll miss me," he'd asked softly.

"Yes, but it's more than that." Her eyes had filled with tears. "I was in love with Clark, and I never saw this coming. I should have been there for him after Corbin died, and I wasn't. I could have prevented this and I didn't."

"Chloe..."

"He's not a bad person! He isn't. He's just - confused."

She'd started crying in earnest then, and Clark had held her close.

"How is it going to end?" Bug asked him later, having witnessed Chloe's breakdown from a respectable distance. "When our Clark comes back? What will be be like?"

"I wish I could say, Laura. I hope he'll have learned something from this, and maybe then Chloe will have her chance to step in and help him." He paused. "Or there's another possible scenario."

"What's that?"

He'd looked at her with a sigh. "That none of us will remember any of this. When the portal closes everything could snap back into place right where we began."

She'd nodded. Her eyes had been dry, but she'd looked up at him with a sadness in her expression that had cut him to the core.

"Either way, you'll be gone. I'll miss you, Clark. It'll be just like losing Corbin all over again."

"I'm sorry. I wish I could give you Corbin back. I wish..."

_You were my Lana._

He'd kissed her too.

Looking back over his shoulder, Clark saw her gamely struggling through the underbrush in her long overcoat and baseball cap. Slung over one shoulder was a large cloth bag. She was also carrying Clark's crutches. He thought of the many times she'd pulled something useful out of her pockets and wondered if she had ever been a Girl Scout - she was obviously prepared for absolutely anything.

_Except maybe body swapping aliens and tears in the fabric of the universe. That would sort of take anyone off guard._

"Everything is strange to me, but not completely. The world is like a painting by Picasso. You can recognize things but they aren't quite - right."

Lex nodded. "I felt the same way when I was in your world. I saw my father - Lionel - briefly."

Clark didn't have to look at him to get his opinion on that subject. He could hear it in the troubled tone of Lex's voice. "He's different?"

"Your Lionel Luthor is a rich man, Clark. Here my father is nearly penniless. He's a brilliant man, with a generous heart. He took in a strange, alien child and kept him as his own through some pretty rough times."

"You really admire him."

Their progress through the forest slowed to a halt. Lex steadied him as the faced each other.

"I want to make him proud of me, to pay back to him in any way I can for what he's done. The only way I can do that is to use what's been given to me to help others."

"That doesn't leave you much time for yourself," Clark remarked. "And having to hide what you are, what you can do, that's not easy."

Lex put his arm around Clark's shoulders once again. "I'll figure out a way to have both. I just haven't thought of anything yet."

Clark sighed heavily.

_Let me know when you do.

* * *

_

"No sign of him," Chloe whispered as they met her in the main cavern.

"That doesn't mean much," Clark whispered back. "He's quiet and he's fast. When he strikes you'll never know it."

"Why do I feel like I'm in a vampire movie?" Chloe looked at Lex. "You don't suck blood do you?"

Lex glared at her. "No."

Bug's voice had a slight tremor to it. The light of her flashlight hit her glasses and turned the lenses white, obscuring her eyes so that she looked more alien than any of them.

"Technically speaking, Chloe, bats don't suck blood, they lap it from shallow cuts."

"Gee, Laura. Thanks for the zoology lesson."

"I'm just nervous," Bug shot back defensively. She checked herself, changing her tone with an apologetic glance at her friend. "Why do I have to go?"

Lex brushed past Chloe to the head of the column. "You're the least likely to be recognized, Laura. You don't exist as Laura Potter in that world."

She sniffed. "I don't know anything about being a distraction..."

Clark patted her sympathetically. "All you have to do is chat up Lionel and his men long enough for Lex to slip in and get the key. They'll be focused on you anyway - you aren't supposed to be there."

"I wanted to study the bats." Laura repeated. They had gone over her role before setting out from the Kents' house. She patted the cloth bag slung around her shoulder. "And when they say, 'what bats?' I say, 'these bats.' "

"You've got it." Flashing a toothy grin, Lex flicked the brim of her hat down. She rewarded him with a shy smile as she pushed it back up, and Clark, watching, could not help feel the slightest twinge of jealousy.

_Would Lana be so accepting, if she knew the truth about me?_

"Try to stay where I can find you." Lex added. "We'll only have seconds before the portal closes. I've got to get both of us back through before we're caught on that side. I don't know if putting the key back in will reopen the door or not."

Chloe winced. "And if it does, whether you'll come back here, or into some other plane of existence."

Bug shot Clark a terrified look.

"You won't!" he promised. "Lex knows what he's doing."

Lex reached out a hand to Bug and gave her his most reassuring smile. "Come on, Laura. It will be alright."

She hesitated, looking at the fissure and the void of white light within it. Suddenly she turned and threw her arms around Clark's waist, nearly knocking him of f his crutches. "When I come back, you won't be here," she said. "Good-bye, Clark. Good-bye."

Clark balanced himself on one crutch as he wrapped an arm around her and gave her a good, solid hug. In his world his hugs were cautious, given rarely. It felt good to squeeze her hard and not have to worry about breaking her bones. "Good-bye, Laura," he whispered. "Be safe."

Turning away, she straightened her shoulders. He saw her face set in a determined look he had seen before. For a moment, as he looked at her profile against the bright light of the portal, Clark saw his Lana. It lasted only a second before she took Lex's hand and he guided her forward.

They vanished in an instant.

Quietly Chloe edged up beside him. She took his hand, and they waited.


	8. Chapter 8

Chloe began pacing after a wait of nearly fifteen minutes. Her hands fluttered as she walked back and forth before the portal. Her eyes were filled with worry. "I don't trust him, Clark. He suddenly shows up out of the blue, alive and kicking, tells you all this mumbo-jumbo, and now we're sitting here waiting to see if he's coming back or not."

"And your friend is with him."

"Yes!" she said plaintively. "If they don't come back in five minutes, Clark, I swear I'm going in after him. How could you let him take her?"

"I didn't see any choice, Chlo!"

"You could just stay here!"

She met his eye and stopped.

"You know I can't," he said softly. "Bug knew the risks."

"What if he kills her, and the other Clark, and he closes the door on you! You have to admit that's a feasible scenario. He's dead here. That Lex has all the money in the world. All ours would have to do is kill him and take over. With his abilities it would be a piece of cake."

"He could have already, and he didn't. Chloe, for someone who only recently believed this whole story, you're buying into it hook line and sinker now." He paused. "Do you want me to stay that badly?"

There was a long silence before she replied.

"Yes."

"I can't."

"I know." Her pacing began anew. "I know, I know. I keep telling myself that. I just...make bad choices. I always have."

"You'll find your way, Chloe. I know you will." Clark grinned. "Especially if you're anything like my Chloe."

Chloe smiled back at him, and opened her mouth to reply. She stopped before the first word left her mouth, her brow crinkling. "Did you hear that?"

Clark pushed past her. "The portal!"

There was a low hum coming from the fissure and although it could have been only his imagination, it seemed to Clark as if the light grew somewhat brighter. White on white swirls suddenly began to revolve around in its center and a shadow appeared. It was small and moving rapidly.

"What _is _that?"

There was no time to answer Chloe's query before the creature burst out of the light and into the cave, fluttering around Chloe's head as if it were disoriented. She ducked with a cry borne more of surprise than fear. After one last swoop at Clark, the little bat disappeared into the darkness of the caves.

Seconds later the portal flared again, and this time the light grew as bright as the sun. Clark put his arm up to shield his eyes.

Lex exploded from the fissure. Behind him came Bug, her slim wrist locked firmly in his one-handed grip. Chloe rushed them, shoving Lex aside to embrace her friend.

"Laura! You're all right? Everything is all right?"

Bug's hair was tangled, and her glasses were askew. With trembling fingers she righted the lenses on her nose and fumbled for her pockets. A baseball hat was produced. Breathlessly she nodded. "I'm okay."

Chloe let her go, and the four of them stood together before the portal. Chloe looked at Clark expectantly.

"I'm still here," he said. "The portal isn't closing." He crutched forward, past Bug and Lex. "It's still open."

"You lied!" Chloe turned on Lex angrily. "It's not closing. Why isn't it closing?"

"It was only a theory, Chloe."

"Where's the key?" Clark demanded. He returned to the others. A trickle of sweat rolled down his back. He was uneasy, and couldn't say why. If Chloe felt it he didn't blame her for being angry. Something was not right. "Did you get the key?"

Lex reached into his jacket pocket. From inside he withdrew the octagonal disc and held it out for Clark and the others to see. "It's here." He turned toward the fissure. His brow creased. "I don't understand why it's not closing. It should have slammed shut seconds after I removed the key from the wall."

Chloe edged closer to the light. Lex reached out to hold her back and she shoved him off. "Something must be blocking it."

Clark felt a chill go up his spine. "It's him," he whispered. "He's here. On this side."

"You are good," Clark Kent said quietly. "I'll give you that."

He stepped further into the cavern, casually walking in with his hands in his jacket pockets and a smirk on his face. How long he'd been waiting in the darkest recesses of the main corridor they did not know, but long enough to have ascertained what they'd been doing. It obviously did not please him. His smirk faded. His expression grew ominous. Bug backed up behind Lex. Chloe took a step forward, situating herself between one Clark and the other. Lex did not move at all, but he studied his alien counterpart very carefully.

The other Clark held out a hand. "Give me the key, Luthor."

Lex folded his fingers around the key. "I can't do that, Clark."

"And why not?"

"Because this isn't right. You don't belong here. That body, its power, doesn't belong to you." He advanced a stride. "I know you. I know you're still grieving for Corbin..."

"Don't you dare even utter his name, murderer," Clark's doppleganger spat. "Don't you DARE!"

The shout echoed through the caverns, multiplying ten times over, repeating itself again and again. Rocks dislodged themselves from the ceiling above their heads until they were forced to cover them. Only Lex stood unflinching. He waited patiently, never taking his eyes from the other Clark.

"I know now," the other Clark said in more normal tones. "What it's like to have power, and I know you do nothing but squander it. You hide in the shadows like a rat. I've seen the other side, Lex, and I won't give it up. I can help people. Save lives. Save people like Corbin." A hint of madness shone in his eyes as he raised his head proudly. He rose a fist to his chest. "I _need_ these powers to protect the world from _you_!"

"I'm not the enemy, Clark."

"You're not even human!"

"And in that guise, neither are you! You're just like me. Don't you understand that?"

This gave the other Clark pause, but only for the briefest second, when his eyes grew thoughtful and somewhat afraid. Clark could see him rationalizing, sensed the fine line they were all treading with a young man teetering on the edge.

_No. He's no longer on the edge.He's lost it. Finding out the truth about Lex, having his consciousness thrown into another body - it's all been too much for him. And there's grief there still, eating away at him. God, can we reason with him?_

Clark hobbled forward. "Clark, it's not your fault, nor Lex's. Corbin was just sick..."

"SHUTUP!" One hand stabbed outward, finger pointing accusingly at Clark's chest. "I've seen your world.You're just like HIM. You hide what you are, what you can do. You skulk around feeling sorry for yourself while people in the world are dying. You're murders, both of you!"

"And how can you help anyone if you're locked up in a lab?" Lex shot back. "Or dead. When you found out about me, Clark, you tried to kill me."

"You killed my brother!"

"I have nothing to do with it! He was sick!"

"From your chemicals, from exposure to your chemicals."

"No!" Bug stepped forward, her small hands clenched into fists. "No, Clark! Corbin was sick before he had anything to do with Luthor Corp."

There was a silence as the other Clark took this in, but his head was shaking in denial, and his face grew red with fury. "You're lying!"

"I'm not lying. He told me. He didn't want to worry you or your parents." Tears started to run down her face. "I swore, Clark. I swore I would never tell. But it's the truth. Your brother was sick a long time before he died."

"You're LYING!"

"Laura, get down!"

Clark saw the flash of red in the other's eyes before anyone else, and reacted even before it registered with Lex. He lurched sideways, slamming into Bug so that they both stumbled and crashed into the cavern wall. Where Bug had been standing, flames whipped around in a fury, seeking something, anything, to burn. Finding no fuel they faded, leaving behind only scorched rock and the scent of smoke in the air.

There was a quick flicker of motion. Lex moved as well, gone in a blink. But when the blink ended Lex was flying through the air, pushed aside as if he weighed nothing. His body slammed into the side of the cavern opposite where Clark and Bug were staggering back to their feet. The ground shook and they almost fell again. Rocks, bigger ones, were dislodged from the roof of the cave. They ducked and covered their heads.

"Clark!"

It was Lex's voice, and Clark didn't know which one of them he addressed. It may have been a warning, for as he finally regained his footing the other Clark had again thrown Lex aside and was quickly approaching. Bug stepped between him and it was Clark who shoved her aside, sending her spinning into Chloe's arms as he made one last, desperate lunge in an attempt to escape...

Only to be jerked up short. His crutches clattered to the ground as his head bounced painfully off of something as hard and unyielding as stone. Darkness obscured his vision for a three count. Instinctively he raised his hands to his neck and felt an arm as immovable as a steel girder around his throat.

When his vision cleared he saw Lex standing before him. His blue eyes were narrowed with anger. His fists were clenched. Beyond him, huddled in a corner, stood the two girls. Chloe's expression was wide-eyed, fearful. Bug had lost her glasses. She squinted to see.

Clark heard his own voice at his ear. "One more step, Luthor, and he dies."


	9. Chapter 9

Lex took a step, testing that threat. The arm around Clark's neck tightened until only the barest hint of air could pass through his throat. Reflexively he curled his fingers around that arm, prying at the grip, but he knew he could not budge it.

"What are you going to do, Kent?" Lex asked softly. "If you take him with you to the other side the door will still be open. Do you think those people will overlook you dragging _yourself_ around as a hostage? I don't think they will. Furthermore," His smile was treacherous. "I will follow you."

"In that case, I'll just kill him anyway."

"NO!" Chloe screamed. "Clark, no!"

Clark felt his captor flinch, and used the distraction to slip his hand into his coat pocket.

_The box! The box! Where's the damn rock?_

In an instant he had it, flicking it open with his thumb. Green light burst from within and the other Clark flinched away from it with a cry. The moment he was released Clark stumbled forward, nearly falling as his legs buckled under him. Pure adrenaline overrode the weakness and pain. He hobbled toward Chloe as fast as he could. If he could only get out of grabbing distance! Lex spun away from him as he passed, out of the influence of the rock, and behind him he heard a howl of fury. His captor had recovered.

"Clark!" Bug screamed. "GO!"

He lurched forward, increasing speed. He ground his teeth together against the pain.

Seconds later something struck him in the back of the right leg. Time stopped with the sound of a loud SNAP, a sound that reverberated through Clark's body from head to toe to drown out everything else. As he fell he turned his head to see the follow-through of a kick that would have killed him instantly had it connected with his head instead of his thigh. The other Clark bounced backward, out of the range of the meteor rock, and there was a smile on his face.

Clark had no time to fully register what had happened before the pain hit him.

He hit the ground screaming. The rock fell from his hands and tumbled off into the darkness of the caves, out of sight, and possibly out of the realm of recovery. He was oblivious to anything except the agonizing pain. It was far, far worse than anything he'd experienced before, or during his exile in this world. One look at his leg revealed why, and he nearly fainted.

Bones not quite healed had been broken again, this time shattered along with the plates and pins holding them together. Shards of bone and metal protruded from his thigh just above the knee. As he watched in horror, a dark stain began spreading rapidly across the fabric of his jeans.

"Oh no. No. No. NO!" He gritted his teeth, grinding out the last word through taught lips. Chloe scuttled up to him and dropped to her knees.

Her face went white when she saw the leg, but she kept her composure. From around her neck she pulled a small handbag and began to take apart the strap. "You need to stay calm, Clark. Hold still." Her hands shook as she wrapped the piece of leather around the top of his leg and pulled it tight.

"Aauugh!" Clark's eyes watered. "Chloe..."

Her hair fluttered as a rush of air sped past. Clark heard a grunt, and an ominous rumble as Lex and the other Clark slammed into the cave wall, locked in combat. Rocks and gravel came raining down from the cavern roof. From some distance away Bug let out a cry. Chloe threw herself over Clark's body in a small, but valiant effort to protect him. The two combatants stumbled away.

From the corner of his eye Clark could see them struggling. Lex had both fists wrapped in the front of the other Clark's shirt, ducking the punches that were being thrown at him right and left. When one connected he grunted in pain but he did not let go. As Clark watched he braced himself, gave a mighty heave, and tossed his adversary over his head into the ground. Cloth ripped. The other Clark hit the floor with a bone jarring thud.

And the earth trembled.

_He's trying to get him to the portal, trying to literally throw him through!_

Bug had made it over to them. She hovered just shy of his vision. Her cap was gone, she still had not recovered her glasses.

"How is he?"

Chloe rubbed the back of her hand across her face, leaving behind a crimson smear. The effort she made to keep her voice from trembling showed in her eyes. "I can't stop the bleeding," she said hoarsely. "It won't stop, even with the tourniquet. We have to get him to a hospital, now."

Looking over her shoulder, Bug could see the other Clark picking himself up from the gouge his body had left in the soft earth of the cave floor. Clark could see it too. The other Clark was coming after him again. He heard Chloe draw a quick breath.

Lex rushed back into view, lunging between them and the doppleganger. This time, however, the other Clark was ready for him.

It was a quick move, nearly too quick for them to follow. His arm snaked out, and in one, massive blow, he struck Lex in the face with his fist. Lex's head snapped back. His body arced and twisted and he hit the ground. Again the earth rumbled. Clark heard Bug suck in a breath and hold it.

Lex lay face down in the dirt.

Unmoving.

The other Clark stood there panting, savoring his victory with both fists clenched at his sides. A trickle of blood ran down the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away and chuckled. It was a low, ominous sound. Slowly he turned his head, and his attention came back around to his look-a-like.

Clark's heart pounded rapidly in his chest. His chest itself felt tight, and every muscle in his body shook and trembled as a sudden chill raced through him. Despite his best efforts his teeth chattered.

"Chlo..." he gasped. "Cold. I'm so cold."

Chloe and Bug exchanged glances. Quickly Bug began stripping off her coat. Both girls draped it over his body.

"It's shock. Clark hang on, okay," Chloe pushed his hair from his forehead. Her fingers were warm against his skin. "You'll be all right."

"Don't lie to him."The other Clark's presence loomed over them. The key was in his hand.

"Duh...duh...don't," Clark struggled to sit up. "You duh-don't understuh...stand." Bug pushed him back. His eyes darted to her face.

_Lana. Lana, help me. Lana..._

"Lana," he breathed.

"This is over." The other Clark squatted down beside Clark. His eyes were unsympathetic, incongruous with his words. "You have to understand. I need this body."

He reached for Clark's throat.

Clark tensed, seeing his death before his eyes and knowing it was inevitable. Whether he bled to death from the leg wound, or let this imposter choke off his last breath, his fate was sealed.

"No!"

There was a quick motion. The hand altered course, snapping back from Clark's neck to envelop Chloe's. She had tried to stop him and instead he stopped her, hoisting her off the ground and over his head as if she were no more than an insect. Her arms and legs flailed the air. Clark could see the chain of her necklace, half caught beneath the other Clark's hand, press hard into her skin. Blood dripped down upon his face from above. Her eyes were wide with terror and, perhaps, grief. This wasn't the boy she loved.

"Let her go! Clark! No! Let - GO!"

Bug had hold of his other arm, trying to pull him away, to rescue Chloe. Her smaller body was a dark blur of motion as she grappled with the much larger alien. She might as well have been trying to move a mountain. Almost as an afterthought the other Clark put his hand on her chest and shoved her to the ground. She gave cry as she tumbled into a rock. Her breath "whooshed" from her lungs. Stunned, she did not move for a long moment. In the alien Clark's grasp, Chloe went limp.

Clark could only watch as the horror unfolded. He felt himself fading. His lips moved in a silent plea for help. He heard a voice shouting. It was Lex.

"Black Kryptonite! The necklace is black Kryptonite!"

Clark struggled to keep his eyes open, struggled to understand what Lex was saying. He was tired. He wanted to sleep. It would be so nice just to sleep. Fall to sleep.

"Laura! Help him!"

His eyes closed. He felt her small hands on his own, tugging at him. Her voice cried out and he opened his eyes to see the other Clark dragging her upward by a handful of hair. Chloe hung like a broken doll in his other hand. Bug kicked and twisted, struck at her captor with her hands, but could not free herself. Clark could see Chloe's bloody necklace twisted around the fingers of one hand. It dangled tantalizingly before his eyes.

"Drop it! Laura drop it!" Lex screamed.

She obeyed. The pendant fell from her hand just as she was flung across the cavern into Lex's arms. He had one last command.

"THE STONE!"

The shout woke Clark from his stupor. He rolled over, lunging for the necklace with every last bit of strength he had left in him. It was his last chance. Lex knew something. Clark had to trust him. He was not ready to die just yet.

His hand grabbed at the soft dirt of the cave floor, coming up short of the necklace. He cried out in frustration and grabbed a second time. For a moment he thought he would fall short again and despair shot through him along with blinding pain. But this time he felt his hand close around the black stone. His voice cried out in triumph and he heard heard an echoing whimper from a crumpled body beside him. The other Clark had dropped Chloe.

_She's alive, oh thank God..._

A hand descended out of nowhere, grasping him around the throat. He groaned as he was hauled upward, and he struggled to remain conscious. Before him hovered his own face, and his own eyes, but in those eyes he saw only madness and grief. In that brief glance Clark read the other Clark's intentions. Clark knew he was going to escape death again.

In a last ditch effort to free himself, he struck at the arm that held him with the stone in his hand. It was a meteorite. Even if it didn't do anything else, at least it might cut alien skin.

_You may kill me, but you're going to pay for it!_

The stone touched the other Clark's flesh. His eyes widened, and he screamed in pain. His grip tightened. Clark no longer cared. He pressed the stone harder between his palm and the other's arm.

Suddenly a bright, white light exploded from the stone, enveloping both Clarks. It burned, searing Clark's eyes and his mind. He could no longer sense where his body stopped and the other's began, as if they had melted together. The screaming continued and he did not know if it was his own or not.

"Nooooooooo!"

He was falling, falling, spinning out of control. His body flailed.

_Falling! Help me! _

A hand came out of the brightness to grasp his arm. He felt another at his belt. Lex's voice cut through the chaos.

"Hold on, Clark. You're going home."

And then there was nothing.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note:

Tenth and final chapter. Thank you to Maveness, ChiriChan, and Valentienmichel for reading my multiple drafts. And a BIG THANK YOU to everyone who read and commented.

Enjoy.

"Clark."

_Whitelightwhitelightwhitelightwhite..._

"Clark!"

His eyes opened. He blinked, and it seemed like a long time before his eyes were able to focus on the face hovering over him. Grey eyes peered out at him from beneath a smooth brow creased with concern. Beyond a black clad shoulder ancient drawing seemed to dance across stone walls as if they were alive. He blinked again.

"Clark, are you all right?"

Clark jerked upright, suddenly realizing where he was and who was with him. "Lex! What happened?"

"I was hoping you could tell me. What were you doing down here?"

_What was I doing down here? What happened?_

He stood up, brushing dirt from his jacket as he tried to formulate an answer. "I was...finishing up some work for doctor Walden."

"The guard said he heard an explosion."

Pausing, Clark looked back toward the wall.

_The key. I put the key in the wall. There was a burst of light and...I must have passed out. I don't remember anything after that. _

His eyes darted to the wall and he felt his chest grow tight. The key was gone. It was no longer in his pocket, and no longer in the wall. Lex was staring at him intently. He would have no opportunity to look for it.

"I'm fine, Lex," he said breathlessly. "Everything is fine."

"Clark, I'm concerned. First I find you lying in the middle of the road, now you pass out here in the caves. Maybe you should go to the hospital."

"Seriously, Lex. I'm okay. I just need some air."

The concern did not leave Lex's eyes. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure," Clark grinned. "I'm just tired, and that's what I get for staying up too late cramming for an exam. Don't worry."

Lex shrugged, and put his hands in his pockets. "That's what friends are for."

"To worry?" Clark laughed. "Well if you're that concerned you can give me a ride home."

"I'd like to, Clark, but I'm meeting Dr. Walden myself in a few minutes."

Mention of the doctor's name made Clark automatically glance at the glyphs etched into the stone walls, and it was then that he realized he could read them.

It was dark, and the air was chill. Laura's breath created swirls of steamy white fog as she wove her way toward her destination. In her hand she carried a bundle of wild flowers, picked along the way. They were the last of the season and looked a little rough around the edges. It didn't matter. He wouldn't mind.

She came to a stop before a low, smooth stone set deeply into the ground. There she knelt, and brushed the leaves from its surface.

**Corbin Kent**

**Cherished Son, Beloved Brother**

**1986-2001**

"Hey," she whispered. "I'm sorry I haven't been here in a while." With a small smile, she presented the flowers, and laid them on the ground before the stone. She folded her hands in her lap, and sighed. "I'm not sure where to begin. I guess you heard about Clark's accident. It's pretty bad, but the doctors say he should be okay. It was a miracle that Lex wasn't hurt too or Clark would have drowned for sure. Chloe said..."

Abruptly she stopped. Slowly she raised a hand to push her glasses back up her nose. The sound she'd heard came again. A chill raised the hair on the back of her neck.

"Who's there?"

At first there was silence, and only darkness. Mist swirled around the ground, and danced about the feet of a large winged statue that stood beneath a leafless tree. As Laura watched, a figure emerged from the shadows. She felt her face stretch into a silly grin, and a blush crept into her cheeks. Had he heard her?

"Oh," she said. "Lex. It's you."

He moved closer. His hands were tucked into his jacket pockets. A lock of hair fell across his forehead.

"It's late, Laura. You shouldn't be out here, especially alone."

She shrugged. Her blush deepened. "I'm okay."

He studied her carefully. "You come here a lot don't you?"

Turning her head back to the gravestone, she reached out to touch its cool surface, tracing the letters with her fingers. "I miss him."

"So do I." Lex said quietly. He came over to where she sat, and crouched down next to her. "He was my friend too."

"I heard about Clark," she said abruptly.

"I heard he suffered some memory loss, is that true?"

Laura looked at him. He wore a peculiar expression. She could not interpret it. "Yeah. He lost a few months at least. The doctors don't know if he'll recover it."

_Relief? Am I seeing relief there?_

The look was gone in a blink. Laura wrote it off as her imagination playing tricks on her. She toyed with a thread that had come loose from the tail of her coat. They fell into an uncomfortable silence.

"Lex?" she asked finally.

"Hmm?"

He turned his head, and she grinned bashfully.

"Can you keep a secret?"

"I'm the Fort Knox of secrets," he whispered.

Their eyes locked, and in that instant Laura felt a surge of guilty pleasure fill her heart.

_Oh, Corb. I'm sorry but..._

_I think I love him._


End file.
